


Fight for you

by BlackBloodedGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt!Sam, Limp!Sam, Protective! Dean, Protective! Sam, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBloodedGirl/pseuds/BlackBloodedGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean made some enemies while Sam was at Stanford. Now their looking for him, and Sam gets in the way.</p>
<p>Spoilers for seasons 1-5, not many but they are there. Beware!</p>
<p>I don't own Supernatural</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight for you

Sam's night went to hell the minute he heard the knocking on the door. All he had wanted to do was kick back, do some research, and pray that Dean wouldn't bring anyone back to the room. He had only done that once or twice, and it had only been because he'd been so drunk he'd forgotten Sam was back. Those nights had only happened a few times just after Dean had grabbed him from Stanford, but he was still pretty wary.

He stood up, quietly as he could, and slowly grabbed his pistol from beside his laptop, and cautiously made his way to the door, peering through the peephole with all of his hunter senses on high alert. On the other side of the door stood a brown haired man in a baseball cap and clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in a week. Beside him stood a woman with long blonde hair and a rosy face, her clothes tight and looked easy to move in. Hunters.

"Come on Deany boy, we know you're in there!" The woman sang at the door. Sam opened the door and pointed the gun at them. They raised their hands and grinned, staying where they were.

"What do you want with Dean?" Sam growled angrily.

"He owes us some money there Sammy,we just want his debt repaid," she said carefully.

"How much," He asked carefully.

Dean burst appeared behind the hunters just then, and they whirled and punched him in the temple, knocking him out then and there. Sam went to fire the gun, but the woman pulled out hers before he could and pointed it at Dean.

"Shoot and he dies," she growled, "And that would be a pity, we wanna have some fun with him."

Sam lifted his gun, and set it on the floor. "What did he do to piss you two off so badly?"

"Took some money Sammy boy, now he needs to pay," the man finished and started to walk out the door. Sam felt panic rear it's ugly head in his gut and he yelled, "Wait!"

The woman turned but the man kept going. "He's been to hell, do you really think torturing him will do anything?" he said quickly, talking on the spot. He had to get Dean out of this, no matter what it meant. "If you take me and hurt me, it'll hurt him more," he said bowing his head. Dean had spent so long protecting him, he needed to protect him for a change. He knew Dean would come and get him, and these people would die, but at least he could hold them away from him until then.

"He's right Bill," the woman cackled, and took his hand to lead him to their truck. She patted his arm and glared at Bill. "Put him somewhere safe," she sneered, her gaze lowering to Dean "Now, you Sammy boy, we're gonna have some fun with. Don't try anything, because you really won't like it if you do."

~~~

Pain lanced down Sam's back, again and again. His hands were cuffed, tied and duct taped to a butcher's meat hook, hanging from the ceiling of an old butcher shop. He was in the freezer. It was cold, so he guessed that Bill and Sherry, who the woman had so kindly told him her name was, had fixed it up for this particular event. He shivered, painfully aware of all of his exposed flesh. He was only in his boxers. He felt pain rip through his middle back and he held his breath. He would not show weakness to these pathetic assholes.

"You know Sammy boy, it almost pains me to ruin this lovely body you have," she sighed and ran her long red painted fingernails up his spine, "you are quite lovely. Maybe even more so than your pathetic brother," she giggled, whispering in his ear and licking the earlobe. He shuddered and shut his eyes. All he had to do was wait, they wouldn't kill him, not until Dean was there to watch. Bill entered the room just then, holding a contraption in his hands. It looked like a typical white chunk of gauze, until you looked at the underside. It was covered in small, barbed spikes.

"Now Sam, if you try to move from now on it's gonna hurt like a bitch," he cackled and wrapped it around his torso. Sam tried not to move but even the smallest movement he could feel the barbs sinking deeper into his flesh. Even breathing hurt him. He grunted and kept his breathing shallow and quick.

"Good boy Sammy," the woman laughed and sent her knife slicing down his arm. He grunted but stayed as still as he could. She laughed again, and dropped the knife, picking up a syringe.

"Now Sam, this is a little something I got a witch to cook up for me. It'll keep you awake and going, you're not aloud to go to sleep, but this is insurance in case you disobey."

"Bill dear, could you pass me my toy please?" she said smiling at the man. He smiled back and went to their work table across the room from where he had stood before. He pulled out a cat-o-nine tails, with specially made hooks at the end of each rope, and handed it to Sherry, who kissed him on the nose.

"Thanks babe," she said and then grinned evilly at Sam. She walked over and looked at his back. It was wrapped tightly in the gauze, but she knew it wouldn't matter if it sliced it open, the spikes were digging into his flesh, and if Bill wanted them tighter he could wrap more on top of them. She looked solemnly at the man before her and whipped her hand back, and brought it back down with a wrist flick. She heard the crack, and the grunt of pain, and watched as the thick, warm and sticky blood ran down his back. She dipped a finger in it and laughed as she came around to face his front, watching the disgust in his eyes as she licked it off. when Sam said nothing though, she continued whipping him.

Sam felt the fire in his back, but tried his best to ignore it. It hurt like a bitch, but he tried not to move, not to make a sound. The old Winchester pride had taken over once again. He was doing this for Dean, who would be pissed at him for it, but at least he would be alive. How many time had Dean protected him? It was time to repay that debt. Dean would come for him, and he had tried to escape, a few times. He had only stopped when they threatened to bring Dean in and hurt them both. He couldn't risk that. His back was a criss crossing of lines and a thick sticky mess.

"Pity, theres no more room up here to have any fun with," Sherry pouted angrily. She dropped her whip and Bill immediately went to scoop it up, handing her a new thing. It was a long pointed hook, made of metal and it looked like it had a plunger at one end. Sherry walked over to his chest and looked at his face as she plunged the hook into his left pec, right below his tattoo.

"See Sam," she said plunging the fluid into him, "this is a mixture of many things. All together it'll hurt like a bitch, and when those effects where off, you'll have the full effect of my games," she laughed and he screamed. The fluid that was now running through his veins was agony. Pure, unadulterated agony. It felt like fire ran through him, then needles that pierced at the agonized flesh. It was brutal and he couldn't help but shout in agony. Sherry grinned at him, and waited. For as soon as this agony was done, a new heightened one would begin...

~~~

Dean woke up, and groggily looked at his surroundings. He was on his bed, in his motel room, alone. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, before the memories came rushing back to him. Sammy! He stood up quick as he could, ignoring the pain in his brain. He ran around searching for any clues as to where those bustards had taken him. Dean knew why they'd been there, and he knew they must have fed Sammy some bullshit story. His eyes skimmed the room and landed on a crisp and cleanly folded piece of paper on the night stand. It was a note, written in sloppy handwriting, and what it said made his blood boil.

_Dean,_

_I bet by the time you're_ _reading this, Sammy boy is in our custody, enjoying the full effects of our anger with you. This is sad Dean, the fact that your baby brother had to stand up and clean up your mess. You're just lucky it was of his own free will! He looks like he'll be one hell of a toy Dean-o. If you choose to come looking for him, he's in the place where our lovely encounter went down. Happy hunting Dean!_

Obviously this was written by Bill, no one else could have hand writing so sloppy, and Sherry wouldn't have been able to get him in bed, not without Bill at least. No she would have been guarding Sammy. He needed to find these sons of bitches and make this right, no matter the cost. He needed to get Sammy back, safely. 

He stared at the note, eyes skimming over the words again. The place where it all went down? That was in Minnesota, and he was in Wisconsin. Fear pooled in his gut, it wasn't far and who knew how long he'd been out. That mean that a lot of the time he'd been out, Sam was probably being tortured, especially after what he did.

~~~

Sam yelped again, feeling the torch graze over his flesh. It felt not like fire, but like hellfire. Everything Sherry had done to him had been more painful than they should have. As soon as the injection had worn off, everything he felt was more agonizing then normal. He had been screaming for so long, feeling every inch of him being burned and mutilated. It was torture like he had never felt. She was leaving his torso alone though, Bill had rewrapped him, and he could feel the long spikes digging deeper and deeper, giving more and more resistance as they tried to rip free of his torn flesh. Bill left the room then, and Sam was barely aware of it. He was blind with pain, but all he could think was,  _at least Dean isn't here to see this. At least he isn't going through this._

Bill came back then, holding another, strange contraption in hand. Sam couldn't see it properly, but he felt a mask go over his face, and felt a tube go down his throat. He could hear every breath he took whistled and he could barely get enough oxygen. He looked down as he felt Bill tightening the mask. Sherry climbed onto a chair that had been there for a while, and plugged the tube with her fingers and Sam struggled for air, but he couldn't get any. He arched his back and tried to throw his head out of her reach, but he didn't have the strength to do it. She cackled and made him fight for breath for as long as she could, but she didn't want him passing out just yet. No, she didn't so she unplugged the tube and watched him breathe, relishing in the sounds of the whistles it made. She almost wanted to hum to it, but she didn't. 

She picked up a new knife and ran it down his legs and she nodded to Bill, who picked up a hammer. He used it on poor Sam's toes and feet shattering every bone within them he could. Sam screamed, turning the whistles to high pitched shrieks, that Sherry loved. The spikes within the gauze was digging even deeper as he screamed, only making him scream louder. This boy had been a challenge, but Sherry had finally broken him.

"Don't you worry Sam my dear, these are only the beginnings of some of my toys," she said patting his arm, ignoring the squishy, and chunky blood on his arm. It wasn't as nice when it was cold. She tapped her nails against his bicep, carefully digging her nails in. Sam hung limp and motionless, trying to ignore how every breath was agony. How every twitch sent fire through him, trying to ignore the repulsion he felt whenever the woman he had thought was kinda pretty, went near him. Trying to hide the fact that he was gaging over the tube that was stuck down his throat. The tube that, judging by the taste in his mouth, was also spiked to cause a painful removal.

"Now, by now I'm sure Dean has found the note Bill left for him, he knows where we are. Just what we want to get your skank of a brother back for what he did," she spat, venom dripping from her words. Sam wanted to ask what she meant, but he couldn't. Sherry smiled and nodded to Bill, who in turn took out a metal baseball bat. He began wailing on Sam's ruined Torso, while Sherry pulled out a dainty little blade. Sam grunted with each blow, and Bill relished every thud and crack he heard. Sam coughed and tasted the metallic taste as red splattered out of the tube. Sherry rolled her eyes, and watched the red fluid fall to the ground below her. She would need new boots after this. Shame. These were her favourite.

"Oh Sammy," she murmured lovingly as she circled his body, "I was going to carve some lovely words into your brother. Words like 'skank', 'whore' worthless' and y'know 'murderer'," she hissed, "but now we have you! I get to carve in some lovely words my dear, words like 'blood sucker' 'demon fucker' 'lucifer's bitch' and all that jazz," she whispered in his ear as she dug the blade into his thigh, carefully tracing out Blood sucker. She watched the blood drip out of the fresh wounds, the words would scar. He would never get those out. She moved to his stomach, and carved lucifer's bitch, before carving Demon fucker on his chest. Each word was clean, and in her eyes just beautiful. She smiled and dropped her knife, those would scar, he would forever know what he had done. He would be forever haunted for his crimes against humanity. Every hunter knew what he did, and now she had the perfect excuse to get back at both Winchesters. Sammy didn't care anymore, every piece of him burned, every piece of him was in agony, the freezer so cold now he couldn't stop shivering as he got colder and colder. There was so much pain, it was almost numb. But not for long. Bill came back and stood in front of Sam, looking into his face. "You made a mistake boy-o now you're paying for it," he said and stomped on his broken foot, making Sam whistle as he tried to yelp. Sherry laughed and pulled out her new contraption.

"This is the final one, dear," she laughed and held it up so he could see. In her hand was a tube, that was hooked up to a tank of something, it had holes all the way through it, and more spikes. What was with these people and spikes? He would never know. She wrapped the long tube around him, while Bill turned a knob on the top of the tank. Propane. She cackled and lit the match, immediately scorching him all over. He screamed as loud as he could, but only a high whistle came out of his raw and aching throat. Blood shot from the tube and Sherry smiled, watching the burns. She extinguished the flames quickly, not wanting him to get too burned. He couldn't die, that would be too easy on Dean. He would die later, when Dean was there to witness it. Sherry looked at her work, carefully looking it over. Good, the burns hadn't mangled the words.

~~~

"Bobby, I'm gonna need you to get down here, Sammy's in a bad way," Dean said into the phone, speeding down the highway. Ten more minutes, ten minutes and he would have Sammy out of those bastards clutches.

"Why Dean, What did you to idjits do now?" Bobby says exhasperatedly, but worried all the same.

"I screwed up Bobby, real bad," Dean said, tears threatening to appear.

"What did you do Dean?"

"I kinda, got with a girl back when Sam was in Stanford. Turns out she was possessed by a demon, and she died in the process of me exorcising her. I didn't mean to Bobby, but she'd had a bit of an adrenaline Junkie of a demon. No matter what I did, she would have died no matter who exorcised her, too bad it was me, and the best news? Her parents were hunters," he said angrily into the phone. It was his fault Sammy was suffering. It was his fault. He just couldn't have kept it in his pants, and because of that, Sammy was probably dead.

"Damnit Dean, Where are you guys?"

"The old butcher shop, Riverview Avenue, Minnesota. There's a dive called Buckey's Motel," he said quickly. 

I'm on the way," Bobby replied, before hanging up.

"Come on Sammy, just hold on," Dean whispered into the steering wheel as he sped down the highway, looking for the butcher's he had exorcised the daughter in.

~~~

Sam screamed again as Bill shot both of his shoulders, and Sherry sent a hook through both of his knees. The whistles were so loud now, that he almost deafened himself. Sherry laughed and stood again, but stopped, her ears pricking upwards at a noise. Car doors had just slammed. She laughed. Dean. Bill went and hid behind a shelf, pointing his gun through the gaps. Sherry stood behind Sam, peeking around, a gun pointed to his head. She grinned and watched the door open. Dean burst in and pointed his gun at the bitch who was holding a gun to a limp looking Sammy's head. He loped at the scene and fired, but Sherry fired at the same time. Blood poured off of Sammy's cranium, and Sherry fell. Dean looked around, knowing that Bill had to be there. He spotted the gun pointing out of the shelf and fired, the gun flew backwards, and Bill clunked to the ground. Dean ran in and looked over his broken brother, praying he wasn't dead. He was lucky, Sherry had only grazed the back of Sammy's head, but he had to get Sammy down, now. He, embarrassingly, needed to climb onto Sherry's chair to reach the bonds, but he did it and cut off the tape and rope, and shot the chains. Sam fell but Dean was able to grab his arms and keep him from hitting the ground and he gently lowered Sammy to the ground. Sam groaned and tried to struggle away.

"Sh, Sammy, it's me dude, you're gonna be OK," Dean said assessing the wounds. He immediately grabbed at the mask over his face, but was met with resistance as he tried to pull it out. He groaned and looked at it, shining his flashlight on it. There was too much blood dried onto the outside top see. He decided to leave that and work on the rest of Sammy. He had a tone spiked into his flesh, and he winced as he pulled it off of him, revealing the gauze underneath. He was confused as to why they would dress Sam's wounds, until he saw the spikes in the gauze. He yanked those out, but was met with more resistance. Upon closer inspection he realized there were little spikes on the bigger ones. He threw it away and dragged Sam out of the freezer realizing that his lips were going blue. He watched in agony as he dragged his poor brother to the car. Sammy couldn't walk, his feet so swollen and his knees so bloody. He was a mangled mess. He knew there were still spikes embedded in his flesh, and he knew that with every step he cracked the burns open more and more, but he couldn't stop. Bobby would be able to help, he just had to keep Sammy alive for the few hours until he could get here. 

He wrapped Sam in a blanket in the backseat and hoped it would absorb the blood, and keep him warm at the same time until they got to the motel. He would smuggle Sam in and keep him alive, and pray for his forgiveness. He was angry, but relieved that Sammy was alive and those fuckers were dead. He was worried and afraid for Sammy, and he didm't know what he would do if he lost him. He shook his head. No, Sammy would live, if it killed him. 

~~~

Sam woke up, in a lumpy, but semi comfortable bed and looked around him through blurry eyes. He was in Dean's and his motel room. He tried to sit up, but was unable to make his limbs respond. He groaned and turned his head. Dean, who was in a chair across the room from him, sprung up and rushed to his side, calling for Bobby. Bobby? When had he gotten here? 

Dean held a glass of water to his lips and he drank slowly, trying not to get sick. It burned all the way down and stung like a bitch. He spluttered but drank it down. He was too thirsty. Bobby came in the room, followed by another man that Sam didn't know. He tried to back away, but he was very unsuccessful. He only ended up hurting himself more. Bobby and the other man stopped and looked at Sam.

"Dude, this is Dr. Sanderson," Dean explained.

"Ye, a friend of mine, thank you very much," Bobby said gruffly, "now will you idjit let him do his damned job?" Bobby asked gruffly. 

Sam nodded and the doctor went over, and gave him an exam. "I would suggest he stays with you Bobby, for several months at least. This is going to take a long time to heal, and he's going to need physio," Sanderson said as he stood up. Bobby nodded. 

"That's fine, he'll be close to you that way," Bobby said. Sanderson nodded. 

"I need to put some things in the car," he said and Bobby nodded, "I'll come with you."

The men left and left Dean in with Sam. They knew that the boys needed some privacy.

"Why did you do that Sammy?" Dean asked angrily, "You almost died! So many times this last couple of weeks, I doubt you remember anything though," he said bitterly looking at his brother, who coughed. 

"What did you do to make them so pissed Dean?" Sam retorted scratchily. 

Dean paled and shook his head, he didn't want to explain but Sam deserved to know. 

"I had sex with their daughter, who turned out to be a demon. The woman died when I exorcised her, and her parents were pissed," he explained, looking down at the floor, too ashamed to look into his baby brothers face. Sam nodded though and clutched Dean's arm. 

"That explains more, they said you owed them," he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and Dean watched worriedly, before he continued, "money. That makes more sense," Sam smiled, and tried his best to ignore his voice. Dean was about to interrupt, his rage so predominant that he could barely hold it in.

Sam raised his hand though, and interrupted him, "To answer your question," he said, "because you've always protected me, it was my turn. I'll always fight for you Dean, it's not fair for you to be the only one to make sacrifices here," he said and coughed again. He felt pain wrack his body, but he tried to hide it from Dean, who looked concerned enough.

"Y'know man, protecting you is part of the job," he said, "It wasn't fair to make you do that, the punishment was meant for me."

Sam shook his head. "I don't care Dean, you're OK, I'm alive and will be that's all that matters."

"You should hate me so much Sammy," Dean said, tears in his eyes. 

Sam looked at him with wide eyes. "I could never hate you dude, you're my brother, pain in the ass, but still my brother," he said.

Dean stood up, wiping his eyes, and ending their 'chick flick' moment. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have those lies shit tattooing you," he said. Sam looked down, seeing there hateful words in his flesh. He blanched and bit his lip to prevent himself from groaning. Those would never leave him, but he didn't care. It was worth it to protect Dean. 

"Look, I gotta go and see if you're gonna be OK to move to Bobby's tonight," Dean said and Sam nodded at him to go. He did. Dean smiled a bit. Sam didn't hate him. It would be a long road, but he would recover.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ^-^ I'm so sorry if anyone was too OOC. Please let me know what you thought in the comments!  
> I know I used a few things from my other tics, but I also tried to make this as different as I could. Don't yell at me! haha


End file.
